


Peter B. Parker Goes to Shul

by magumarashi



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen, Jewish Peter Parker, Rosh HaShana | Jewish New Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 14:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: Peter B. Parker hasn't been to synagogue in 20 years, but hey, better late than never!





	Peter B. Parker Goes to Shul

**Author's Note:**

> I emerge from my obscure fandom and rarepair cave to bring you.... something for a decently popular piece of western media? What kind of bizarro timeline are we on?
> 
> Anyway I work at a synagogue and every year for the High Holidays we do these little books of art/writing by congregants, to give people something to read when they're sitting in services all day. This year we had fewer submissions than usual, so I decided to write a little something to fill pages, and surprisingly enough the editor liked it enough to include it in the book. Since it's fanfiction, I wanted to put it up here as well for everyone else to enjoy!
> 
> For the goys, I've got a glossary of Jewish terms I used at the end :')

Peter B. Parker hadn’t seen the inside of a synagogue in fifteen years—not since he’d married his high school sweetheart. High Holiday services had been the last thing on his mind for a long time, and in his defense, he’d had a lot going on lately. Job. Bills. Divorce. Current events. But, Peter. B. Parker decided, no more excuses. This was the year for turning over a new leaf. And what better way to turn over a new leaf than to embrace the heritage he’d spent much of his life ignoring? 

_ New year, new me, _ Peter thought as he dug through his closet for his suit—when was the last time he’d worn a suit? A _ real _ suit? He found something black and shrivelled under a pile of old sweatpants. It looked vaguely suit-like. It still fit, too, though the pants were a little tighter in the waist than he remembered. _ Gotta work out more_, Peter reminded himself. _ And less pizza. _

He tried to see if his tallis bag was still buried somewhere in his closet like the suit was, but he was already running late, and those last minute non-member tickets hadn’t been cheap. Figuring the synagogue would probably have a tallis he could borrow, Peter zipped out of his apartment and headed towards the subway. 

It was a quick ride to shul (as quick as the New York subway could be), and at every stop he was joined by more nice Jewish couples in nice Jewish clothes headed the same way he was. Peter tried to press out the wrinkles in his suit so they’d be less obvious, but he was already getting looks. He probably should’ve swapped the Converses for something nicer. 

_ Alright. Made it. Services have started already… well, nobody’s perfect. _

The tallis rack was empty. Peter took a machzor on the way in and scooted in toward the back, where there were still a few open seats. He opened the book up to the same page as the person next to him, trying to discern where everyone else was reading. He’d gone to shul often enough as a kid, but it had been so many years since then, he couldn’t really remember the flow of things. The Hebrew letters danced quietly on the page; he’d long forgotten how to read them.

Feeling like a regular fish out of water, Peter tried to concentrate on the service, but it was hard. He’d been raised Jewish and married Jewish, but he’d been out of it so long he felt like a stranger again. Chants made way for prayers, for silent meditation, for more prayers. The assembly rose, and sat, and rose again. Familiar melodies tickled the back of Peter’s memory, even if he hadn’t retained the words. He started zoning out, losing himself in a sort of meditation, humming along with the crowd…

Suddenly the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something was happening to the left. He turned. A kid a few seats down had fumbled, her machzor careening toward the floor—

_ Thwip! _

Before anyone realized what was happening, the book was already in Peter’s hand. 

The girl down the row stared at him, mouth agape in awe and recognition: she’d seen the silver threads shooting out from Peter’s wrist catch the book before it hit the ground. 

She knew.

Peter put a finger to his lips and gave the girl a sly wink. He handed her the machzor back, and she flashed a grin with a missing tooth before returning to her parents’ seats. Her parents nodded to him gratefully, sharing his knowing smile. They knew. Who wouldn’t? How many web-slinging thirty-somethings could there be in New York?

(Peter now knew the answer was More Than You’d Think, but in this universe’s New York it was probably just the one.)

Normally Peter would have felt a pang of anxiety, revealing his secret identity to someone out in the open. He did his best not to use his powers when he wasn’t on the job, as nice as it would have been to skip the subway or scale his apartment building to avoid the slow elevator. With great power came with great responsibility, after all, and personal safety was part of that responsibility.

But here, somehow, he was able to relax a little bit. He didn’t know anyone around him, but he got the sense they had his back all the same. So what if he hadn’t been to a synagogue in years, or had forgotten all the prayers? He was Jewish, and that meant he had a place here whether he wanted to or not. 

And really… who would believe that their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man goes to shul?

He’d spent the last twenty-odd years focusing on his responsibility as a superhero, and ignoring his responsibility as a Jew. Now that he thought about it, though, maybe the two didn’t have to be so mutually exclusive.  


**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping congregants wouldn't come into this story expecting it to be about Spider-Man unless they Already Know about Spider-man, so I decided to only drop the name at the very end, haha! Hopefully it will be a nice surprise.
> 
> Also, in the printed version I dropped the line referencing multiple universes, because judging by the average congregant at shul the reference would have just muddied things.
> 
> Speaking of shul, here's that glossary I promised:
> 
> **Shul** \- yiddish word for synagogue. Way easier to spell.  
**Tallis** \- also rendered _tallit_; the s variation is Yiddish/Ashkenazic. Plural is tallisim (or tallitot). A tallis is the white/striped prayer shawl worn by Jews, and it's typically kept folded in a little bag when not in use. Typically one receives a tallis at their b'nai mitzvah, to give you an idea of how long it's been since Peter last used his lmao  
**Machzor** \- a special prayerbook used at the High Holidays. The prayerbook used for everyday or Shabbat services is called a Siddur. Traditionally in Judaism, books containing the name of God in Hebrew are to be treated with respect and should not be allowed to touch the ground.


End file.
